The scornful maid, and the constant young-man. With mocks and taunts she doth him jear, as in this ditty you may hear; yet no denyal he would have, but still her favour he did crave: yet at the last she granted love, and vowed she would constant prove; yet in this ditty you may find, it is money that doth a bargain bind. Tune of, Times changling I will never be: or, Sawny, or, A fig for France. Robins, Thomas, fl. 1672-1685. 1685 Approx. 6 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 1 1-bit group-IV TIFF page image. Text Creation Partnership, Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) : 2009-10 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1). B05020 Wing R1659 Interim Tract Supplement Guide EBB65H[81] 99887288 ocm99887288 181998

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 Early English books online. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. B05020) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 181998) Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books; Tract supplement ; A2:4[81]) The scornful maid, and the constant young-man. With mocks and taunts she doth him jear, as in this ditty you may hear; yet no denyal he would have, but still her favour he did crave: yet at the last she granted love, and vowed she would constant prove; yet in this ditty you may find, it is money that doth a bargain bind. Tune of, Times changling I will never be: or, Sawny, or, A fig for France. Robins, Thomas, fl. 1672-1685. 1 sheet ([1] p.) : ill. (woodcuts). Printed for P[hilip]. Brooksby, at the Golden-Ball, in West Smithfield., [London] : [1685?] Signed: T. Robins. Place, date of publication and publisher's name from Wing. In two parts. Reproduction of original in the Harvard University, Houghton Library.

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 eng Broadsides -- England -- London -- Early works to 1800. Man-woman relationships -- Early works to 1800. Ballads -- England -- 17th century. 2008-10 Assigned for keying and markup 2008-12 Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2009-01 Sampled and proofread 2009-01 Text and markup reviewed and edited 2009-02 Batch review (QC) and XML conversion
The Scornful Maid, and the Conſtant Young-Man. With mocks and taunts ſhe doth him jear, As in this ditty you may hear; Yet no denyal he would have, But ſtill her favour he did crave: Yet at the laſt ſhe granted love, And vowed She would conſtant prove; Yet in this Ditty you may find, It is Money that doth a bargain bind. Tune of, Times Changling I will-never be: Or, Sawny, Or, A Fig for France.

ALL hail, all hail, thou Lady gay, the glory of the world to me, More beautious in mine eyes I ſay, then Venus in her prime could be: One ſmile from thee I now do crave, If ſo much favour I could have: One ſmiling glance from that twinkling eye, Will ſave my life, or elſe I dye. Stand back, good ſir, what would you have your ſpeeches let me underſtand, What is the thing that you do crave, do not you think me to trappan: What beauty here Sir can you ſpy, Hands off, I pray come not me nigh: Either a ſmile, or elſe a frown, I think will ſerve for ſuch a Clown: What ails my deareſt hearts delight, ſweet Lady now be not ſo coy, Thou ſeem'ſt to be an Angel bright, in thee is all my earthly joy: Then do not ſeek my life to ſpill, But grant me love for my good will: One glance from that bright twinkling eye, Will make me for to live or dye.
The Second Part, to the ſame Tune. O Fie away, thou fondling now, my very heart thou vexeſt ſore, I ſcorn ſuch py'd-Noſe Iacks as thou, pack, pack, I ſay, come here no more: That Maid which ſets her love on thee, May ſay ſhe is blind and cannot ſee: The durtieſt Drabin all the Town, May prove too good for ſuch a Clown. Oh ſay not ſo, my only joy, I am the man which loves thee dear, Thy ſpeeches doth me ſore annoy, but yet thy love I do not fear: In time I hope thou wilt change thy mind, For all thou ſeem'ſt at firſt unkind: One ſmiling glance, &c. Good Sir, I pray this anſwer take, you ſpend your time in vain on me, I pray you ſeek ſome other Mate, my heart doth ſcorn thy baſe degree: What do you think I am ſo blind, To have a Clown by birth or kind? Oh no, I pray you come not me nigh, For I ſcorn my ſhooes thou ſhould'ſt untye. VVell Lady, now if it be ſo, that I no favour here can have: But now by force from thee muſt go, ſome other Maidens love to crave: This Gold and Silver I will let flie, Before the next ſhall me deny: For all thou termeſt me ſuch a Clown, I have a Year five hundred pound. Tis not your Gold, good ſir, that ſhall tempt me to yield unto your will, That Maid which comes when you do call, will find you have but little skill: In this ſame caſe, you do profeſs To pleaſe a Maid, I do proteſt I ſee no skill that you can have, To give a Maid what ſhe doth crave. If that be all my deareſt Dear, if that thou pleaſe me but to prove, Then of my skill thou needſt not fear, lo, I have here what Maids do love: Here is Gold and Silver, come and ſee, VVith all delights to pleaſure thee: Therefore ſome favour to me ſhow, Before that I from hence do go. VVhat doſt thou think I am ſo fond, to yield my freedom here for Gold, Or doſt thou think I dote on means, O no, it never ſhall be told That money ſhall my Maſter be, Therefore come thou no more at me: Be gone, be gone, ſtand not to prate, For fear I break thy Clowniſh pate. Then fare you well thou ſcornful Dame, for ſeeing it won't no better be, Yet I muſt needs ſet forth thy fame, of all the Maids that e're I ſee, For beauty rare within mine eyes, No Man can win a rarer prize: If thou would yield to me thy love, I conſtant always vow to prove. Well Sir, if you will conſtant prove, as now you do profeſs to me, Then I do grant to thee my love, and I vow to prove as true to thee: Here is hand and heart to thee I give, And I vow to love thee while I live: VVhat more can you deſire of me, For a conſtant wife I will prove to thee. If it be ſo my Deareſt Dear, thou ſhalt never have cauſe to repent, For coſtly cloathing, with Iewels rare, I have to give my Love content: Here is my hand, my heart is thine, And bleſſed be the hour and time: That thou didſt grant thy love to me, Come now we will go and Married be.
By T. Robins. FINIS.

Printed for P. Brooksby, at the Golden-Ball, in Weſt ſmithfield.